Fish'n for Cherries
by AtHeart150
Summary: Fraser's Ridge - So spoilers if you have not read the books... Jamie gives a fishing lesson to the boys.


Fish'n for Cherries

 _I do not own the characters in this story. They are the creation of Diana Gabaldon. I just tweak them. Enjoy._

All hell broke loose as Jem rounded the corner of the Big House with Rollo barking at his heels. Jem entered the yard screaming "Grannie, Grannie, ye've got to come quick! Grandda fell and is dying! They sent me to fetch ye." He ran right up to me, waving his hands in my face. They were covered in blood. Bree, Marsali and I had been enjoying a nice cup of tea on the porch while the girls - Mandy, Joan and Félicité tried to catch butterflies in the flowers by the porch.

"Marsali, go into the surgery and clear everything off the table and fetch some fresh water to boil," I commanded. "Mrs. Bug take the girls with you to the kitchen. Bree, you're with me" and I jumped off the porch, hiked up my skirts and followed Jem and Rollo around the house and back up the trail.

The morning started out calmly enough. During breakfast, Jamie had asked the bairn if they wanted to go fish'n. The boys had yelled and screamed "Yes" with great excitement and enthusiasm. Germaine and Jem quickly started stuffing the rest of their breakfast in their mouths, mumbling between bites that they needed to go back to Germaine's cabin to get his pole They'd be right back and pleaded with their Grandda not to leave without them.

"Sit down and finish ye meal proper. Grandda will wait for ye ta return," Marsali said to Germaine and put a firm hand on his shoulder to hold him in place on the stool. "Eat ye parritch, all of it, and then you can run back to the cabin and fetch your fish'n pole. Jem can go with ye if he has finished with his breakfast."

Jem snorted in response to the delay. That got him a look from his mother over her coffee cup. "Apologize to your Aunt Marsali right now young man, or you will not be going anywhere today," Bree said sternly.

"Sorry Auntie," Jem said solemnly with his head down. Roger placed a hand on his son's shoulder in solidarity.

"Ooch," Marsali said. "Apology accepted, Jem. I ken ye are just excited to spend time with ye Grandda, but ye need a good breakfast first. Look at your Grandda, he always eats a large breakfast and he's just started his parritch. Mrs. Bug is still cooking his eggs and ham and toast. You ken your Grannie Claire will make him eat some of her yucky tomatoes or some other such thing grow'n in her garden, so finish your parritch and toast so ye can go and get back, aye. You've got time." and she smiled at both boys.

"Yucky tomatoes," both Joan and Félicité said together, scrunching up their faces and sticking out their tongues in disgust.

"Poor Grandda," Mandy added from her seat on her grandfather's lap while patting his hand. Jamie kissed the top of Mandy's curly mopped head in an attempt to avoid my glare. If he would just eat the vegetables I grew, the rest of the Ridge would not view me with such suspicion and might just follow his lead. Bree, Roger and I ate something my garden produced almost every night. Lead by example, that had always worked for him before.

Jamie reached over and tousled Jem's hair playfully and said, "No one will leave until ye have returned. We hav'ta give Mrs. Bug time to pack us a wee bit of lunch," Jamie said blinking both eyes, his version of a wink. He turned to Mrs. Bug and smiled one of his beautiful smiles. Mrs. Bug was putty in my husbands hands. She'd do anything for 'Himself' and went straight to the pantry to fetch the picnic hamper. "Now finish eat'n so ye and Germaine can go 'n get back, aye Jem."

It looked to be a beautiful spring day and I knew Jamie had been itching to take the grandkids fishing. It had been a long winter and their favorite fishing hole was almost an hour's hike up the mountain trail. It would help burn off some of the boys pent up energy and give their mothers a much needed break. It was really very sweet of him.

I placed the last of my last fine bone china tea cups down next to Jamie's mug and wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, "Thank you. I owe you one," in his ear. I playfully bit my husband's earlobe and placed a soft, loving kiss on his neck while counting my blessings that I had him back in my life once again. I have never been a complete person without Jamie near, since the moment Dougal forced us wed. "Thank you Dougal MacKenzie" I whispered.

My husband, always in tune to my mind, body and soul, whispered, "Tha tapadh leat bràthair-athar." _Yes, thank you Uncle._ He turned and kissed the side of my head. I ran my fingers through Mandy's brown curls, picked up my cup and as I turned to walk over to the very disappointed Joan and Félicité, my husband swatted my arse.

I turned and looked at him...

"Yes" my husband declared and fist pumped the air. Jem raised his hand and high-fived his grandfather and they both continued to eat their parritch, never missing a beat.

The things Jem decides he needs to teach his Grandfather. I shake my head.

"Why did you spank Grannie?" Mandy turned and asked her Grandda.

Bree, Marsali and I all stopped and looked at Jamie, waiting to see how he would reply.

"Weel, nighean an leanabh, ye see... I was'na spank'n ye grannie a'tall. I was tell'n her how verra much I love her. Ye see, yer grannie and I have a special language all our own and when I pat yer grannie's lovely round arse, she kens I am have'n very nice thoughts about her," and he looked directly at me and smiled.

"Indeed." I said and smiled back.

"As you do not share the same enthusiasm for fishing as the boys and do not like to help me weed in the garden, how about..." I turned to Joan and Félicité, "...we go hunt for berries after the boys leave and make a cobbler to go with this fish dinner we're going to have tonight." And the girls were all smiles. All except Mrs. Bug that is. I am not a very good cook, as anyone that lives on Fraser's Ridge will remind me, at every available opportunity. Even Jamie cannot always eat my culinary efforts, though he always tries.

I think this is one of the reasons Jamie brought The Bug's to the Ridge to begin with. Mrs. Bug was firmly placed in the kitchen, the very day after they arrived and she certainly did not want me making one of my disastrous concoctions in **her** kitchen. My cooking attempts usually dirtied every bowl in the house and the kitchen always looked like a flour bomb had exploded when I was done. And, as Mrs. Bug liked to remind me, nothing edible is ever produced. I secretly think she said that because, when I cook, I use a lot of my garden's vegetables, which as everyone will also remind me, is my evil attempt to poisoning everyone on the Ridge.

I looked Mrs. Bug right in the face and lied. "Bree is going to teach me a new dough recipe, so she will be the one doing most of the cooking. I am sure Marsali will be helping me as well" I said and smiled.

Mrs. Bug looked to Bree and she nodded her head in confirmation. Mrs. Bug then looked to Marsali who nodded yes as well. She then turned to me and said, "Aye then, as ye'll be supervised. But ken, I'll be watch'n too."

My glass face must have shown both my shock and hurt for while Jamie started to laugh out loud, at my expense once again, he took one look at me and stopped. I watched as this poker faced husband of mine, who can keep a stone face and cheat half a dozen men out of a week's pay in a card game, can not keep his shoulders still as he attempts to stifle his laughter. I watch his shoulders shake with mirth as he tries to hold back his giggles, failing miserably. I heard a couple of snorts escape in his effort to contain them. If I had been closer, I would have without a doubt, cuffed my husband on the head.

Roger immediately said he would help chaperon, though he was not much better with a fishing pole than he was with a rifle. Jamie did admire Roger in so many ways but Roger was an academic and not an sportsman. I had to remind Jamie every once and awhile when he became frustrated with his son-in-law's lack of basic survival skills. I would point out just how wonderful Roger was with Jem and Mandy and of Roger's challenging intellect, reiterating to Jamie just two of Roger's many admirable qualities. When those two got onto a subject where their opinions differed, which was basically every topic known to man, the discussion could go on for hours. Sometimes Bree would have to intercede, call a truce and declare each had the right to their own opinion, to bring a debating to a halt.

Ian was not going to be left out of the fun and chimed in that he and Rollo would be happy to go along as well. He would even show the boys how to catch a fish the Indian way, with their bare hands, and added that Rollo would show them the wolf way, using only his teeth. That raised whoops from the boys.

I was thrilled. This meant a nice relaxing cup of tea this afternoon, after berry picking. We girls could sit and gab on the porch while Marsali's hell-cats, as Mrs. Bug called Joan and Félicité, could play in the yard with little Mandy while the cobbler cooked.

I could not get the men on their way fast enough. A picnic lunch was packed by Mrs. Bug. She loved to spoil 'Himself' so I am quite sure it was filled with treats I would normally have not allowed Jamie to eat. We would have fresh fish for supper. A lovely salad would go nicely; wonderful early lettuce, spinach, carrots, tomatoes, peas and spring onions were growing in the garden. I was growing celery and radishes this year for the first time too. That along with some pecans left over from the fall to toss in. Sadly it was too early for the corn; while they had been planted and ears were forming, none were ready to be picked yet. I was sure there was still some rice in the pantry we could cook as well although Mrs Bug preferred potatoes with every meal. This was turning into a wonderful day.

After I had checked Marsali's pregnancy progress, as she was having some cramping, we girls had taken baskets and gone berry picking as I had promised. We had returned not too long ago and had just gathered on the front porch for that lovely cup of tea when Jem came screaming into the yard.

Brea and I met the returning fishing party about a quarter mile up the path. Roger and Ian had Jamie between them, one arm over each of their shoulders. My husband was sort of shuffling his feet but not really carrying much of his own weight. Jamie is a large, solidly built man even now in his late forties, he probably weighs close to 12 or 13 stone. The men were sweating from the shared load and the hike back, even though it was mostly down hill. Someone had taken Jamie's shirt off him and wrapped it around his head in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Another perfectly good shirt ruined; it was more red than white now. I would never get that stain out.

I stood in the middle of the path and brought Ian and Roger to a stop. Jamie's head was hanging limply. "Jamie," I gasped as I stood in front of him. When he did not lift his head, I took it between both my hands and raised it enough that I could look him in the eyes. They were closed. I am quite sure I stopped breathing. His face was pale, almost no color at all. "Jamie, it's me, Claire. I need you to open your eyes and look at me. Jamie, can you do that for me?" I commanded as my eyes fluttered all over his face with concern, waiting for a reaction. _Please,_ I silently begged him.

His eyes fluttered open and a mischievous half smile came to his face. "Sassenach," he said in a voice as drunk as any night during the last gathering at Jocasta's River Run. "What are ye do'n here? Decided ye'd rather be fish'n with me than picking berries?" Jamie inquired and managed to lift an eyebrow in question. "Did ye miss me, mo chridhe?" he spoke with a slight huskiness to his tone.

I took a deep breath. "What? Well of course I missed you, Jamie. I always do when we're apart. What have you done to yourself now?" I asked.

Jamie's smile grew as he replied, "I love you Mo Neighan Donn."

"I love you too, Jamie" I replied and his smile grew yet again as I placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "Fergus, start talking." I barked without taking my eyes or hands off Jamie's face as I watched his eyes. Fergus was the oldest in the group, after Jamie. The oldest does not necessarily imply the most mature I remind myself as I looked at my husband. During our short stints at Lallybroch, Ian and Jamie, when drunk, could stir up all kinds of trouble, with hardly any effort at all. They would turn into two mindless loons when they started to share a bottle of whiskey. Like the time they decided that they should celebrate Grannie McNab's birthday by trying to catch and tie ribbons around the necks of all her goats, in the middle of the night. That took a lot of explaining...

"Quelle? Fergus responded.

"Mama needs to know what happened, Fergus... all Jem said was da was dying and showed us his bloody hands" Bree translated for me.

"Oui, Milady, ben sûr. Milord slipped on the rocks by the river bank and fell, striking his head. He knocked himself out cold," Fergus offered. "He is bleeding from the back of his head." Ian and Roger confirmed what Fergus said with heads nodding.

"When he came to, he started talking deliriously, asking for you Claire, so we wrapped his shirt around his head, to help with the bleeding, packed up and started back." Roger added. "Jamie could not even get up by himself. It was clear from the start that he was in trouble. Ian and I have carried him most of the way back."

That confirmed enough for here on the trail. Contrary to Jem's diagnosis, Jamie was not dying. I did however, need to get him back to the big house and my surgery. From the sounds of things my husband was going to need stitches, I would not be sure how many until I had a look at the wound.

I looked Jamie in the eye again and said "Jamie, I am going to run ahead, back to the big house to get things set up. Bree and the boys are going to bring you back home to me, alright?" I kissed him gently on the nose.

Jamie smiled, whispered "mo chridhe" and he puckered his lips readying himself for a kiss. I obliged him with a light, brushing kiss and when I let go of his head, it pitched forward until his chin was resting on his chest again.

"Hurry. As quickly as you can," I said, turned and ran back down the path toward the big house. "Bring your father straight to the surgery" I called back to Bree.

When I entered my surgery, Marsali was not there but I could see she had started to clear the table. I removed what was left so they could lay him down when they arrived. I did not want to risk sitting him in a chair only to have him pass out. Best to lie him down right from the start. Marsali came back with water from the well and added it to the iron pot along with the garlic and St. Johns Wart as I directed. She put it back over the flame to bring it to a rolling boil for me and then went to get the kettle from the kitchen and more towels.

When the fishing party arrived and Jamie lay on the table, I removed the shirt from around his head and gently placed a clean towel under it. Jamie's eyes were still closed.

"Now, someone tell me again what happened?" I asked to a room full of people. That is a huge mistake. Chaos ensued as everyone that went fishing started to talk at once, even the kids. Bree, always in charge when Jamie was not around, placed her two index fingers in her mouth and blew. The whistle got everyone's attention and quieted the room. 'Herself', as Mrs. Bug liked to refer to Bree when she stepped up and assumed leadership, looked at Fergus and said, "Spill the beans."

Once again Fergus looks confused.

This time Roger translated... "Tell them again, what happened to Jamie..."

He turned to Germaine and said "you and Jem take those fish to the kitchen to Mrs. Bug. She will need to clean them for our supper. Maybe she will have a sweet for you both as well." He then turned back to Bree and began again, "After they tired of fishing, the lads wanted to swim. As we ate our lunch and the lads took to the stream to cool off." They had roughhoused, splashing water and trying their best to drown each other. "Roger and Jem taught us all how to jump off the rocks that jetted out over the deep end of the stream and make the water splash."

"Cannon Balls" Roger clarified. "Jem and I were teaching them how to cannon ball, Bree."

"Milord took the bottle of whiskey from the hamper, that Mrs. Bug had packed, and we opened it to share while we sat on the bank drying off and watched the lads" Fergus continued.

"Jamie drank an entire bottle of whiskey?" I asked and looked incredulously at the group.

"No, no Milady, we finished the bottle, oui, but as we had been sharing it between the four of us, none of us are drunk," Fergus said. "We are all equal in this" he added with a smile. "When we were readying to leave, Milord dressed and walked to the water's edge to collect the fish we left cooling in the stream. The next thing I know, Milord is on the ground, flat on his back, bleeding like a stuck pig from his head and says he can not get up. He tells us something is wrong with his back and that you would know what to do Milady. He must have slipped on the rocks. When we realized it was going to take us longer to get back we sent Jem with Rollo to fetch you" and he nodded his head in completion.

When I heard Jamie had hit his head, I sighed. My husband is a Fraser and hardheadedness is a family trait. With the notable exception of his sister Jenny, he is the most infuriatingly hardheaded person on the planet. His head probably broke the rock rather than the reverse. Although a good doctor must never assume, with Jamie it was a fair bet that the rock lost. I know the head to be a very vascular area. The skin is thin and there are a great many blood vessels. An injury to the face or head tends to bleed heavily. They usually look worse than they are simply because there is so much blood. The wound would probably require several stitches going by the amount of blood I could see on his shirt.

Jamie's back was a completely different story. The first winter we spent at the Ridge, Jamie had left at first light to check traps and do a little hunting.

"Please wait for Ian" I almost begged. "I really don't want you hunting alone."

"Winter is here, Sassenach and snow is coming" he said. "I must check the traps while I still can" and he closed the door behind him as he left. Hours later when he had not returned, just as Jamie had predicted, it started to snow. As darkness approached and there were several inches of snow on the ground, I went looking for him and found him flat on his back, unable to move. I had built, under Jamie's direction, a little nest to protect us from the snow as we waited out the storm. Jamie had told me his back had gone out on him from time to time as far back as his time in Ardsmuir. It usually left him unable to move for several day.

I leaned over the table to look down into his eyes. They were still closed. I lift one of Jamie's eyelids to look at the eye's react to light and his pupil dilated. I open the other and the pupil's response was the same. Equally reactive. Does not totally exclude a head injury but I was fairly certain, and happy to see, his eyes, although closed again, were responsive to light.

"Jamie," I said. "The boys have brought you back to the house. How are you feeling?" Are you nauseous? Is your vision blurred?"

Jamie opened one eye and looked at me. "Sassenach," he sighed and smiled. "You are my heart," he lifted his hand and rested it briefly on my cheek then placed it on his chest. He closed his eye again.

"And you are my heart's blood, Jamie." I said and smiled back. "Open both eyes for me now. How many fingers am I holding up?" I asked and I held up three about a foot from the front of his face.

He opened both his eyes now and looked at me. "Three. You are verra beautiful my love," his added. He closed both eyes and then opened them. Jamie just winked at me, I told myself, at least a Jamie version of a wink.

Why was he winking at me I asked myself? It was odd behavior for him, thenblow to the head not withstanding. "How many fingers do you see now Jamie?" I inquired, repeating the question, only now holding up only one finger.

"You are so verra lovely." Is the response I receive, as he playfully batted his baby blues at me. I could not help but giggle. I straight up, leaving my hand to rest on his chest and turn to Ian and ask "how much did you say has he had to drink?" Suddenly, I feel my fingers being suckled. I look down and Jamie has two of my fingers in his mouth as he gently performed some fairly erotic things to them. I feel my insides warm, tighten and tingle all at once. My eyes gaze at rhythmic movement of his soft pink lips as I feel the undulating motion of his tongue caressing the length of my two fingers. "Oh" softly whispers past my lips. I look back up and into Ian's eyes. He has obviously noticed what Jamie is doing as well. When our eyes meet, we both turn crimson with embarrassment.

"Jamie!" I chastise as I pull my phalanges from his mouth and my hand from his grasp.

I could not help but smile at the face he makes at me; like a boy who had been told he could not have seconds of his favorite dessert. It melts my heart. This man, I love him with every fiber of my being. I should tell him so more often.

Ian blinked, tearing his gaze from his Auntie. Even he had blushed; he could feel the heat on his face. He ken his Uncle was good, but that even gave him a bit of a cockstand. It's the kind of thing his Uncle did to his Auntie Claire all the time. Ever since she had returned. He never ken his Uncle behaving like this with his Aunt Laoghaire. All Ian knew was that his Auntie and Uncle only had eyes for one each other and could hardly keep their hands to themselves when they were together in the same room. Ian had witnessed it several times in Edinburgh, most definitely on the road back to Lallybroch and too many times to count since they had arrived at Fraser's Ridge. On the trip back to Lallybroch, when his Aunt and Uncle decided to ride together on the same horse, Ian would take the extra horse and ride ahead. Wait for them at the next camp site. And at night he slept away from the fire, to give them some much needed privacy. Not that his Uncle much cared if Ian ken or no, but his Auntie was a wee bit shy, he thought. When his Uncle Jamie had an amorous mood strike him and he 'needed his wife', no matter where Claire was or what she was doing, with little to no resistance, his uncle would have her.

While at Lallybroch, Ian had asked his da about his Auntie and Uncle.

"Ye ken I love yer ma. And by the count of ye brothers and sisters, ye ken what we have is good, aye?" his da had said. "But what ye Uncle and Auntie Claire have, is special. That kind of love doe'na happen verra often. I think ye Grannie Ellen and Grandda Brian had it as weel." His da smiled a knowing grin. "Ye ken ye Uncle Jamie did not feel the same about Laoghaire. When ye Auntie disappeared after Culloden. Ye Uncle was lost without her. It was like his soul had die, that day he came home to ye mam. She could never put him back together the way he was after that; and ye mam tried, she probably never gave up trying. Ye ken it's probably why ye mam is no so nice to yer Auntie Claire, for leave'n ye Uncle like she did. Weel, when ye Uncle came back to us from Helwater, he was empty, lost of all hope and fight. She thought maybe yer Aunt Laoghaire and her daughters Joan and Marsali might be able to fill the hole ye Auntie Claire had left. Yer Uncle became hard, almost mean after he wedded Laoghaire. We were almost glad he left her to live in Edinburgh and started the printing business. But he was still just go'n through the motions of live'n. That morn'n I found them together in the Kittle Hoose, it was the aulde Jamie that opened the door that morn'n. Claire was back, ye see. She had returned and together they make a complete heart again. What they have between them has always been like that; one, it seems, can'na live without the other. They never couldn't keep their hands off each other. Makes ye mam loon when they paw each other under the supper table, but they just can'na seem to help it." Ian paused to group his thoughts.

"Have ye ever noticed that ye Uncle and Auntie do'na even need to touch, see or hear each other to ken the other is near?" Ian asked his son. "I admire ye Uncle and his relationship with ye Auntie Claire. I may be a wee jealous of them in fact.

So with that in mind, Ian and his brothers, Jamie and Michael, had made a kind of game of it, in the short time they had been back at Lallybroch. They set their Auntie up in different places to see just how long it took their Uncle to take her. Trial and error taught them that it worked best in a confined area, like a room or the barn; aye, the barn especially, though it had worked in a field once. They had decided it had something to do with smell. When Auntie Claire was anywhere near, they could see their Uncle smell the air, sometimes not verra subtly, and once their Uncle had her scent, it would'na take him long even with his injured arm. His Uncle Jamie was like a rutting deer around his Auntie Claire, only year round was the way their da put it. Anytime his Uncle got anywhere close to his Auntie Claire, no matter what she was doing, whomever she was talking to or healing for that matter, when the mood hit his Uncle, which was pretty much whenever he smelled her, everyone else was long forgotten as he carried her up the stairs either in his arms or over his shoulder. Either way his Auntie was over the moon with going. Usually caressing and kissing him the whole way; cooing and calling him pet names she never used any other time that Ian ever heard. His Uncle never failed. Not that he ever saw.

"It's just as Fergus said," Ian begins, after shaking the vision of his Auntie's fingers in his Uncle's mouth from his head. "Mrs. Bug only packed us the one bottle of whiskey and as there were four of us drink'n, I do'na ken he had all that much," was Ian's reply. Ian certainly did not sound intoxicated, if Ian, in fact, was a reliable example of just how much Jamie might have consumed. But then neither Fergus or Roger exhibited any manor of drunkenness either. What was going on with Jamie? Would a blow to the head cause this odd behavior.

I turned to Bree and Marsali. "Alright, we are going to need to roll Jamie on his side so I can get a look at the back of his head. I'll hold his head and roll it and the shoulders, Marsali take the legs, Bree take your da's back. On three, roll him toward me," I ordered. And on three, like a well oiled machine, we had him on his side, facing me. I leaned forward. The back of his head was wet with fresh, red blood. There was a small pool of blood on the towel where his head has been. It looked as if the bleeding were slowing. A good sign. Looking at Jamie's head, I could immediately see where the blood was coming from. He must have a nice little scalp laceration on the back of his head, behind his right ear. I walked around to the top of the table and with my fingers spread my husbands bloody locks until I found the gash. I clicked my tongue against my teeth and declared "it's going to need stitches, right enough.

Bree looks over my shoulder and said, "Ooch da, that looks like it smarts."

I turn and handed Bree one of the rags I had just taken from the pot over the fire and said, "see what you can do about cleaning that up, please Bree. A half a dozen stitches would be needed most likely, and I was going to have to shave my husband's lovely red curls to do it. I clicked my tongue a second time. It would have to be done. At least the hair would grow back.

"Roger, would you please go upstairs and get Jamie's razer for me Roger? Check to see that it has a sharp edge as well."

I turned and started to rummage through my surgery box for my stitching needles, forceps and suture thread.

"Marsali, I need a lather to shave your da's head. Can you make me a cup full?" I asked gratefully knowing she would.

I squatted so I was eye level with Jamie. "Jamie, open your eyes again, please. I need to talk to you. I need to see your eyes so I know you are listening to me."

I moan and open my eyes. There is my beautiful wife's face looking at me. I smile at her. I am verra happy to see her. She returns my smile; she is glad to see me as well. My Sassenach is particularly lovely right now. The afternoon rays of light shimmering in through the large surgery window form a halo around her head confirming what I have always suspected, she is an angel. My angel... though I have yet to see her wings. I must remember to ask her to show them to me. Tonight perhaps she will and I sigh. Between her halo and her verra thin shift, my wife is most definitely heaven sent.

"Jamie? Why are you licking your lips? Are you thirsty?," she coos to me. She takes her finger, dips them in a cup of water and gently wets my lips. "Better?"

I nod and run my tongue back over them and then suck in the lower lip in and hold it in my teeth. My cock sometimes has a mind of its own when it comes to my wife. This time, however, we are in sync. We both want her something fierce right now. My Sassenach is cleaver, she will ken the message I am sending.

She wets my lips again and and sets the cup down. "It looks like the rock that you hit your head on actually won this time, Jamie." She says. "You have a nasty gash on the back of your head. I am going to have close the wound with some stitches and I'm going to have to shave off some of your hair to do that..."

Wait, I think. Her hair. Why is her hair up? She kens I like it down, her lovely locks all wild about her face... I reach out and run my fingers through her hair and pins start flying through the air as I free it from its constraints. I can hear the soft pings as the pins hit the floor and scatter. And just like that, my bonnie bride's beautiful nest of brown curls are free. I look carefully, noticing that her hair has a wee more gray than the last time I remember. Brindle, I think, is the word Jem used to describe it. No matter, she is all I will ever want or need, I remind myself as I tuck a strand behind her ear. "Aye," I say. "That's better Mo Neighan Donn. Much better. Give us a kiss then, wife," and I close my eyes and pucker my lips and….I wait... and... nothing. I open one eye and there is Claire looking at me like I am a wee bit daft.

I feel Jamie's forehead. No, no fever. I can not explain this behavior. Very odd but very sweet and almost amorous. His little touches have sent little sparks of heat coursing through my body. I need to get this wound stitched and my husband up to our bed... away from all these watching eyes. I shake my head at Jamie, gave him another quick peck on the nose. I lean back over Jamie's head to get a look at the gash again now that Bree has cleaned it up. I cannot see well from this angle, so I get up on tiptoes and really have to lean over Jamie to see. I run my fingers over the area, moving his curls to try and see. I need that area shaved.

"Ooh," I say in surprise and look back down and Jamie has two fingers in my bodice, caressing my breast. "James Fraser!" I exclaim. "Just what do you think you are doing?" and I remove his hand from my chest.

"Claire, I need a kiss." my husband pouts. "Now" and he hooks his finger in the laces of my bodice and pulls at me.

Roger is back. "The razer has a sharp edge" he declares and hands it to Bree.

Marsali has made the lather and starts to apply it to the area that is in need of shaving.

I comply with Jamie's request. I stoop down and place a quick kiss on his lips. "Satisfied?" I ask, though do not wait for a reply. Once again I stand up on my tiptoes, lean over Jamie and watch as Marsali starts to shave the area.

"Roger, I need the whiskey from the top shelf in my cabinet" and I turn and point. "Would you please get it down?"

"Sassenach," I state sternly. Nothing. "Claire!" I state loudly with much more firmness in my voice. The room goes silent and suddenly my wife's beautiful face is in front of me again. She is wearing a troubled look. "Kiss me proper, wife. Now," I demand. I place my hand on the back of her neck and ease her gently to me, not forcefully, but guiding and encouraging her. When her willing lips touch mine, I kiss her softly but make it a long one exploring her with my tongue. When the kiss ends, I see I now have her undivided attention. She is all softness and sweetness. She is my healer no longer; she is my wife and all that goes with it. Good.

Ian elbow's Fergus. "Ya see Uncle Jamie? Watch. He's working Auntie Claire. I've seen this before. I bet you he has her down to her shift, before she even puts a single stitch in his heid and she won't even ken it," and he winked at Fergus.

Fergus looked back at Ian and smiled. He'd seen Milord work Milady many times like this in France. Milord had removed Milady's stockings, almost without her knowing, right in front of him as a lad the very first time Milord had brought him to meet Milady All while he sat in the same room with them, playing with the ball and cup toy Milord had purchased for him and eating sweets. Milord was a master at manipulating Milady.

Fergus motioned with a nod and he and Ian took up a new position, leaning against the surgery wall, at Jamie's feet. They would have a good view of everything and be out of the way. They would watch and learn, from the best, the master.

Fergus and he had seen his Uncle Jamie work their Auntie when she was in the middle of churning butter in the big house yard, weeding the garden, dancing at a gathering, and once when some of the ladies were over work'n on a quilt. And of course there were times when his Uncle returned from those negotiation trips to the Indian Village - his Uncle would storm into the house, calling for his Auntie. Finding her, his Uncle Jamie would throw her over his shoulder, carry her up the stairs and no one would see either of them until the next day; everyone actually left the house for the rest of the day to give them some privacy, as Ian remembered.

Roger told them he walked into the barn once and caught them in the middle of the day. No, they simply could not keep their hands off each other, even as aulde as they were now. He'd never see another couple like them. Neither Fergus or he had ever seen him work her in the surgery. Never. And him bleed'n to boot. This was going to be fun. Better than fish'n.

"Fergus." Marsali says. "Fergus," she repeats. "Fergus, I need ya to take Félicité so I can help with da." Fergus removed Félicité from her hold on Marsali's leg, and carried his daughter back to stand next to Ian and watched Milord.

"Claire!" Jamie states firmly. "Claire."

"Jamie, are you alright?" I ask as I lower myself back into another crouch to look into Jamie's face. "I don't usually worry about you and head injuries, but are you sure you are alright? You are acting very strangely." Jamie is running his fingers though my hair. My pins fly out in all different directions as he frees it from it's confines. What is going on with him? His hand grabs a handful of hair on the back of my head and he pulls me into a very amorous, long, wet, tongue involved kiss. When he releases me, I am dizzy. I look into my husbands face and he smiles. Lovingly. Lustfully. My insides tight and my body heats. I cannot take my eyes off his. I place my hand on his cheek. All I can do is sigh.

"Stop that da, mama needs to focus" Brie states as she clots her father on the head. "Mama needs to stitch you back together right now. Put that on the back burner. You can thank her properly later." and she harrumphs, which does nothing to deter her da. "Seriously da. Don't be mucking about with mama right now. You have a head injury for heavens sake. Leave her be, she has work to do."

Ian and Fergus turn and bury their heads in each others shoulders, snicker and snort. Roger is on the other side of the room at the head of the table, next to Brie, with a sleeping Mandy in his arms when he hears the giggling and looks over at them. Their head are together as they watch Claire. Suddenly they roll their heads back and soundlessly laugh. He kens they are up to something and he wants in on it. He's always the left out with them. Brie is distracted, holding the cup of lather for Marsala so he sidles over to the other end of the table where Ian and Fergus are having a attack of the soundless giggles and says, "Alright, what gives? What are you two cooking up? I want in on it."

"Milford almost had her right then and there, except your wife interfered. Roger, you need to get her out of here. She will spoil it for Milford," Fergus states and smirks. To Ian, Fergus says, "You are right, my friend. Half an hour you say? I think maybe a little less. But yes, he will have her down to her shift before Milady knows what is happening."

"Less than half an hour for what? Who down to their shift? Jamie and Claire? No way. What are you two up to? Tell me," Roger requests emphatically.

"Watching and learning from The King of Men," Ian said. And he and Fergus patted each other on the back.

"Cherries." Jamie stated and he hooked his finger back into the top of Claire's bodice to bring her in closer for another kiss.

"What? You want cherries? Are you hungry Jamie? Now?" I asked because I am starting to become a little concerned. "I will ask Mrs. Bug to serve some with dinner. I'm sure she will find some since it is you requesting them." I started to circle around the top of the table to check on Marsala's progress when I realize Jamie has his finger in the top of my bodice again.

"Jamie, what is it?" I asked again.

"Cherries Claire. I need cherries. Now." I repeated and pulled her in and kissed her deeply again. I am fish's, with my fingers, back into the front of her bodice trying to find the ends of her laces; she always tucks them into the top so they are safely stowed out of the way and don't dangle. My fingers finally find them and I fish them out. I manage to untie the bow as I deepen the kiss and begin to unlace her bodice.

Both Ian and Fergus start to laugh out loud as quietly as they can with the word 'Cherries.' Fergus, in between breaths, says, "she thinks he's hungry for food." and starts to giggle again.

Roger started to understand. "You **are** talking about Jamie and Claire!" Ian and Fergus both nodded their heads enthusiastically and fill him in on the wager.

Marsala had finished shaving her ad's had, wiped the area with a clean, wet towel and looked up to tell Claire she was finished when she sees that her da and Claire are in the throws of an extremely amorous kiss. She sighed and looked lovingly at Fergus. She has tried for so long to be angry and hate Claire for the sake of her own sweet mother. But she has witnessed, over and over again, just how much love her da has for this 'British whoring witch' as her mother refers to Claire and she has, over time, seen how very much Claire cares for her da, though she does not begin to understand why Mother Claire was gone for 20 years. Their marriage is so much better than any other she has ever witnessed; here at Fraser's Ridge, in the time she spent in Jamaica awaiting Jermaine's birth or back home in Scotland, for that matter. Much better than any of the three marriages her mother had, even the one with Jamie was nothing like this.

Marsala placed a hand on Brie and motions toward the door.

Brie looked at her and scrunched her face in question.

Marsala nodded toward Brie's parents...

Jamie had managed to unlace the bodice completely and the stomacher fell to the floor. He wanted to immediately start on her stays, but stops takes Claire's hand and places it against his firm, ready cock.

"Oh" Claire whispered. "Why did you not say something earlier. Let me put the stitches in and get the boys help you upstairs to bed. I think I can arrange something..." and she smiled.

"No, Claire, you owe me. Ye said it herself this very morning at breakfast. I'm calling the debt" he said as a very lecherous grin spread across his mouth.

"And what?" Claire answered back. "You want to claim your debt right here? Right now? In my surgery with your head split open like a coconut? You want to have me before I even tend to your wound? Are you crazy?" Her voice got just slightly louder and higher pitched with each sentence. She slapped Jamie's hand away as it untied the last of her laces and her stays fall open. "You do realized this room is full of family, right? And you have me just about down to my shift."

"Aye Claire. Cherries. Fish's is done." Jamie said as he kissed his wife between her breasts. Claire's shift already untied as well. He winked/blinked at the three lads down at his feet, grinning like a lad with a new puppy. "Time for ye to clear the rooms lads. Lesson's over. Now come here wife..."

As they quietly filed out of the surgery, Roger said "Jame had Claire _bamboozled,_ whatever that meant. Jamie would remember to ask Claire later as he slid his hand inside her shift to cup her beautiful breast and place it in his waiting mouth.


End file.
